Are part of us.
We eat guilt and remorse
Like bums eat their own vermin
We squirm and cut our wrists
Over one confession
Then go back to the street of shit
Believing we've forgiven and been forgiven.
Satan Triple-Master - cynic, money-hungry, pupil of
Lulls and quiets my enchanted spirit
Into nothing by this modern chemist.
The Devil moves the strings that move me
I find myself bored by the most boring things:
Every day I walk deeper into the city of hell
Without horror, past my ghosts that stink.
Just like some old man who gave up
And now chews a whore's pitted breast
Whenever I grab one pleasure
Out of boredom I crush it to death.
Packed together swarming-thronging-dead sardines
Demons're rotting in my brains.
Death's sitting in my lungs,
Dead river, sewage of complaints.
Abortions razors suicide viciousness
Haven't yet carved death into this self
Only because my heart's begging
For something else.
Among jackals panthers
Lice scorpions jellyfish vultures,
The urban menagerie of destruction-
There's one animal, mean and strong,
Who doesn't have grand gestures, doesn't scream.
He consciously turns this earth into debris
And swallows up reality with a yawn:
My boredom. As I beg for the sympathy I don't want,
I dream, and he dreams, of my own death.
Reader, you know this oversensitive monster,
Hypocritical reader - my mirror - my brother.